


Lightning Strike

by Kita_the_Spaz



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightning was tearing the sky apart at the seams and Iruka instinctively <i>knew</i> why.</p><p>Written for the lovely samsarapine for her birthday on the prompt of lightning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning Strike

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samsarapine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsarapine/gifts).



The sky above flared a blinding shade of white and the boom that followed close on its heels rattled Iruka’s teeth. He clenched his jaw and kept running, leaping and springing from branch to branch with single-minded intensity. He hadn’t spent chakra this recklessly in a long time and knew he would regret it in the morning, but that was an abstract, with no impact on the here and now. For this second, and every beat until he reached his destination, all that mattered was to keep going, to keep _moving_.

Arc-lightning ripped across the sky, an incandescent blue-white that seemed for an instant to turn the world around him into a photo-negative version of itself. He had barely begun to blink away the dazzle-spots from his vision when the thunder roared so loud it drowned out everything but the vibration of it in his bones. Closer; all the time closer, and he had no time to be distracted.

Heedlessly, he drove more chakra through his limbs, utterly uncaring of the damage he might be doing to himself. He had to make it; there was no more time.

The forest strobed into brilliance around him again; this time there was no pause between flash and the thunderous roar accompanying it. Iruka knew that time was running out. He pushed himself onward, ignoring the agonized protests of overstressed muscles.

Suddenly the canopy ended and the rain hit him full force, lashing against his face and soaking him to the skin in seconds. But that concerned him not at all, not when the sky had gone blinding white again and now he could see the source.

The area past the forest canopy was an enormous circle of black glass, earth fused by the lightning that scoured the ground in a million reaching claws. Rain sizzled on the hot glass, but could not drown the stench of charred flesh of the bodies that littered it. Thunder growled endlessly, though all Iruka had attention for was the single figure in the center of the seared circle, one hand raised to the howling sky.

Kakashi shimmered the same eerie electric white as the lightning, his wild silver hair ablaze in the electricity arcing through him, sparking off his weapons, his clothing, his very skin. Both his eyes were open, the Sharingan glowing a dull, sullen red that contrasted sharply with the blue-white energy pouring down upon him from the seething sky. His natural eye was wide, iris and sclera both brilliantly aglow with white. Behind his mask, his mouth was open in a soundless scream, and Iruka could clearly see the power arcing over his teeth, making them shine dully through the black cloth.

Iruka did not hesitate, dropping down to the edge of the seared circle of ground. The smell of his sandals scorching filled his nostrils, but the reaching tendrils of lightning did not leap onto his exposed flesh. He could hear nothing over the roar of the thunder, even his own heart seemed to thrum in counterpoint to the unending vibrato rumble. He forced his mouth to work, to shape the syllables of Kakashi’s name. It tore at his throat and he knew he was screaming, though the sound was lost.

Kakashi did not move, transfixed by the power surging through him from the storm overhead. If he was aware of anything, he showed no sign of it, looking more like a man-shaped statue of living energy with every passing second.

Iruka was dimly aware of just how little time he had left and stretched a despairing hand toward the glowing center of the circle of destruction. This time the lightning did not avoid his flesh and he felt a jolt surge through him a split-second before every nerve incandesced with indescribable agony. He screamed again, somehow forcing Kakashi’s name out with the pain.

The night turned into pure, blazing light for one moment that lasted an eternity, and then blackness slammed down upon him, driving him to his knees on the seared glass earth. Rain poured over him, washing away some of the pain. Iruka struggled to his feet, cradling his scorched hand to his chest, and opened his eyes. For a long moment all he could see was darkness, but slowly the dim crackle of the lightning in the clouds above worked its way past his dazzled eyes and the rest of the world faded into focus, blurry and dark around the edges, but visible. 

In the center of the circle of scorched ground, a crumpled, smoking form huddled, unmoving. Ignoring the protests of his abused body, Iruka staggered forward and past the unmoving lumps of seared corpses, stumbling to Kakashi. He fell to his knees and used the hand that wasn’t burnt to turn Kakashi over. 

Kakashi rolled limply, tiny sparks still flickering over the metal of his forehead protector and gloves. His exposed skin was the raw reddish-pink of a bad sunburn, but he looked otherwise unharmed. 

Iruka warily pressed his fingers to the curve of Kakashi’s throat, feeling a frantic pulse drumming under his fingers.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Iruka fumbled a scroll out of his pocket and with a wince, closed his burned hand, feeling the seared flesh crack and bleed. Blood dripped off his clawed fingers and onto the scroll. A puff of white smoke and a messenger hawk mantled over the scroll, amber eyes boring into him. “Get the Hokage,” Iruka forced out, his voice a ravaged croak. “Tell her I found him. Tell her to bring medics.”

The hawk screeched and shot upwards into the sheeting rain.

Iruka slumped numbly next to Kakashi, cradling Kakashi’s head on his legs and letting the cold rain pour over his bowed head. He couldn’t find the energy to move so he concentrated on breathing and watching the rapid rise and fall of Kakashi's chest, only occasionally glancing out into the darkness as though it would bring aid to them faster.

It was only a subtle change in the pattern of that steady rise and fall that dragged him out of his stupor and he glanced up to see Kakashi peering up at him with a cloudy gray eye. 

“Iruka...” His name was the barest whisper of sound, hardly audible over the rain and now-distant rumbles of thunder. 

“Kakashi,” Iruka breathed, relief flooding through him. “Just stay still. Tsunade and medics are on their way.”

Kakashi managed the barest hint of a smile beneath his mask. “Good, cause you sound like shit,” he croaked up at Iruka.

Iruka shuddered, a mix of laughter and tears bubbling in his aching throat. “You idiot.”

Kakashi managed a pained chuckle. “I was desperate,” he rasped. “There were too many of them. I-I called the lightning down, I think.”

Iruka slipped his good hand behind Kakashi’s head and cradled him closer. “Yes, and it answered,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I felt it answer to you and I was never so terrified in all my life. You were slipping away from me, like the lightning was going to absorb you into itself. When I saw you, you looked like something out of a nightmare, a living being of nothing but energy.”

Cold, damp fingers brushed his cheek. “I heard you,” Kakashi whispered. “I heard you through the roar of the lightning in my ears. You called me _back_.”

Iruka leaned his head against Kakashi’s shaking touch. “How could I do anything else?” he murmured. “You’re mine. I won’t let anything, be it man or force of nature, steal you away from me.”

**Epilogue/Bonus scene:**

It was some weeks later that Iruka was allowed to return to active duty, his burns and the torn muscles and chakra exhaustion all healed and nothing but memories and scars (and a sound scolding for idiocy from Tsunade-sama). He was writing the date on the chalkboard when one of his students came in. Iruka nodded pleasantly to her, delighted by the wide smile and “Glad you’re back, Iruka-sensei,” she greeted him with.

Iruka continued his work, drawing a diagram on the chalkboard when she made a muffled little gasp behind him. Iruka turned to face her, finding her staring at him with both little hands clasped in front of her mouth.

“W-what happened to your hand, Iruka-sensei?” she asked hesitantly, blue eyes welling with tears of sympathetic pain.

Iruka glanced down at his hand. Though Tsunade had healed the burns, the shiny weals of scar tissue snaked over his fingers and the back of his hand like snail tracks, still an angry pink.

Iruka chuckled softly. “I caught the lightning in my hand.”

Her eyes were still wide with awed hero-worship when Iruka shooed her out of the room with a stack of papers to deliver to another teacher.

Closing the door behind her, Iruka turned and slid the partially-open window all the way up and leaned out to smile at the figure lounging in the foliage of the tree outside.

Kakashi lowered his book and blinked at him, thin lines of worry creased around his uncovered eye. “Caught the lightning?” he asked softly, his voice troubled. “More like it caught you.”

Iruka shot out his burn-scarred hand and hauled Kakashi in for a fierce kiss. “I caught the lightning,” he murmured against Kakashi’s cloth-covered lips. “And I’m not letting _him_ go.”


End file.
